


Better Than Me

by msred



Series: Puckleberry Shuffle [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: College, F/M, New York, Puckleberry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And I think you should know this/You deserve much better than me"</p><p>But then he heard it, not all of it, but enough. She was supposed to be saying all this stuff about how she still had faith in him and it would work out somehow, but in the middle of all that, she said it. He literally saw red when he heard her say, much too calmly in his opinion, 'stay in Ohio too.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Me

" **Better Than Me" – Hinder ~ {www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=TEXBmw2jBcA}**

**_I think you can do much better than me  
After all the lies that I made you believe_ **

"Jesus Christ, I'm coming, calm down already!" Puck wiped his hands on a dish towel before tossing it onto the counter and making his way toward the door. He was trying to make dinner, _vegan_ dinner, for his too-perfect girlfriend and he really didn't need the interruption. Seriously, who rings a doorbell four times within one minute? Rachel, that's who. "Babe, how many times have I told you? Don't bother with the damn doorbell, just c'mon in." He opened the door and stepped aside to make room for said too-perfect girlfriend to get through the doorway.

"Well excuse me Noah, but it just doesn't seem polite to me to just barge into someone else's house unannounced." Rachel lightly rested one hand her boyfriend's shoulder and tip-toed to peck him on the cheek. Instead of coming into the house, she continued to stand on his front porch, just giving him this, this _look_.

"Ok, for the thousandth time, you're not barging. I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible for you to barge. Second, this isn't someone else's house. It's my house," she narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "Ok, it's my ma's house, but whatever, you get the point. I live here too. You're always welcome, always." But even after saying this, he was still holding the door and she was still standing there, just looking. He knew that look, it was her 'I'm trying to keep a secret that I think is really good, but I can't lie for shit' look. "Geez woman, would you just get in here already?"

"Of course," she smiled a little wider and stepped through the door, brushing her hand along the top of his waistband as she went. He really believed she had no idea what she was doing to him when she did things like that. "By the way," she threw him a glance back over her shoulder, the look growing, "I got your mail for you on the way in."

"Oh, thanks," he took the mail from her and was about to toss it absently on the hall table when he caught the return address on the top envelope: SUNY, the only New York school to have not rejected him yet. _'Shit. Why does she have to be so damn nosy?'_ Ok, he knew that wasn't fair. She wasn't being nosy, she was trying to be helpful. She knew it never really occurred to him to check his mail, so any time she came over and his mom was at work she grabbed the mail, or the newspaper, and sometimes even took out the trash. Yeah, ok, so she was all kinds of awesome. When he looked back up, she was grinning from ear to ear, and he knew it was all she could do not to start bouncing or clapping or some shit. "You're gonna make me do this now, aren't you?"

"Noah! How can you even ask? And what do you mean 'make you?' Aren't you dying to know? I mean come on, this is your first college letter! My dads recorded me opening mine." Ok, so maybe he hadn't told her about all the rejections he'd already gotten. And he certainly hadn't told her that SUNY was his last chance, and if this one was a rejection then she'd be going to New York alone.

"Fine," he rolled his eyes. "Gimme a second." He went to the kitchen to turn everything off. He didn't know shit about vegan food, and he certainly didn't know if it would keep for however long this would take, but it already pretty much looked like shit. Looks like he'd be ordering take-out again. "Ok, let's do this thing." Rachel squealed and thrust the envelope in his face. He took a deep breath before ripping the end off the envelope. He couldn't afford for her to see him shaking. She knelt on the floor in front of him and held her breath as he pulled out the letter and scanned the words on the paper. She let out a long breath and leaned forward to read the letter, upside down, when she saw his face fall.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry. I know you did your best," she rubbed her hands over his forearms and continued murmuring what she hoped were soothing words. She jumped a little when he crumpled the paper into a tight ball and threw it violently across the room with a grunt. "Noah, don't do that," she looked at him with concern as she pushed herself up between his knees and onto his lap. "It's ok sweetie. This was just the first one, there will be others, and at least one of them will be a 'yes,' I just know it. In fact, in a couple weeks your biggest problem will be choosing which one of the many schools that accepted you is worthy of having you as one of its students!"

Puck grabbed her hips and moved her off his lap, almost too roughly. "There won't be others, that was it." He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead in his hands.

"No sweetie," she ran her hand up and down his spine, trying to comfort him, "I know it's discouraging now, but there will be others."

"You just don't get it, do you!" Rachel jumped as his voice spiked and he jumped off the couch, needing to get away from her touch. "That was _it_ , Rachel. The last one. All the rest of them rejected me. You're going to New York. I'm not. Understand now?"He looked at her and he could see the first hint of tears glistening in her eyes. He wasn't sure why he was yelling at her. He didn't want to yell at her, it just, happened. He almost thought he was mad at her for believing in him so much. If she hadn't, then he wouldn't have gotten his hopes up like this. Hell, if she hadn't believed in him so freakin' blindly, he wouldn't have even applied to these places, because they probably wouldn't even be together. He kind of spaced out for a few minutes. He didn't even need to listen to know that she was still rattling out sweet, encouraging words, telling him it would all somehow be ok. But then he heard it, not all of it, but enough. She was supposed to be saying all this stuff about how she still had faith in him and it would work out somehow, but in the middle of all that, she said it. He literally saw red when he heard her say, much too calmly in his opinion, 'stay in Ohio too.'

"Wait! What the fuck did you just say?"

He could swear he saw genuine fear in her eyes, and that just made him want to punch something even more than he already did. "I … I said," she stammered, "I can stay in Ohio too. I mean, it wasn't exactly in the plan, but plans change, right?" She stood to approach him carefully.

"Get out."

"What?" Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head to the side.

"I said, get the fuck out. I'm done. _We're_ ," he motioned between their two bodies, "done."

"Noah, I … I don't understand," her tears were flowing freely now. Her hands came out to clutch at his shirt, to pull him to her, but he lifted a hand between them to keep her at arm's length.

"What's not to understand? I want you out, gone. I'm sick of you pushing," a lie, "trying to get me to do things I never really wanted to do anyway," another lie. "You're selfish," biggest lie yet. "I applied to those stupid schools so you would keep your fantasy going hoping that by the time you realized I wouldn't be going with you, you would be too far gone to change your mind. I never wanted to leave Lima, with you or anyone else." Wow, where did these lies come from? "I only had you come over so I could break up with you in person without the scene I knew you'd cause at school." Yep, still lying.

"Noah, please," she had fallen back onto the couch and the words came out as choked sobs. Without looking at her, he walked into the kitchen to trash the remnants of the dinner he had started, for her. When he was finished, he walked through the now empty living room and up to his bedroom so he could trash it too.

**_And guilt kicks in and I start to see  
The edge of the bed where your nightgown used to be  
I told myself I won't miss you  
But I remember what it feels like beside you_ **

Puck woke to a pounding head and an aching neck, sore from being propped on the arm of the couch all night. After Rachel had left, after he had scared her away, he had stormed up to his bedroom, their room for the night, and destroyed it. He couldn't stay in there after that, after knowing that he was supposed to be sharing the bed with her. But now he had no choice. He couldn't go to school in the same clothes he had worn the day before, and everything he owned was in that room. He flinched when he got to the door, not having realized before how much damage he had actually done. Everything from his dresser, mostly pictures of her and of them, was scattered throughout the room. Posters were crumpled and laying on the floor, most of them no longer whole. But his bed, that had taken the brunt of the punishment. The comforter was lying in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed, while the top sheet was on the other side of the room hanging off a lamp. He had somehow managed to, legit, kick a chip off of one of the legs of the bed. As he studied the piece of furniture, trying to figure out just how he did that without breaking his foot, he saw the pink shimmery material peeking out from under the bed. He didn't want to touch it, hell, he didn't want to see it, but he had to get rid of it so he could forget it ever existed.

He bent to retrieve the silky nightgown he had bought just days before. He snatched it off the floor, and before he could stop himself, he ran his fingers over the fabric. She had never even worn the item, but just the feel of it made him think of her. He had been walking through the mall, heading to GameStop to pick up that new game Wheels had been raving about, when he saw it through the window at Victoria's Secret. It was just so … Rachel. It was pink and silky, flowy even, and just the right amount of sexy. That rounded v-like neckline, the salesgirl called it 'sweetheart,' would show just enough of her gorgeous breasts and it was just a little shorter than those teasing schoolgirl skirts she wore every day. Yeah, it was sexy, but not in an over-the-top vixenish way that would freak her out. Like he said, it was just Rachel. Her dads were out of town and he had been excited to give it to her as a gift the night before. The gown, the dinner, it was all for her, just because. Just to show her how much she meant to him. He pretty much fucked that up.

Standing in the middle of his bedroom, holding the nightgown that should be on his bathroom floor as Rachel showered for school, he couldn't begin to understand what he had done, or why. It was supposed to be a good night, their night. Her dads were both out of town from the previous long weekend and unlike most teenagers' parents, they trusted her enough to leave her alone (even though he was pretty sure she told them everything, even most of the stuff about them). His mom was working nights for the next few weeks, but that wouldn't have mattered anyway. She claimed that he was too much for her to handle anymore and she had given up fighting after the whole babygate thing, but he knew that she loved Rachel so much that she probably wouldn't have fought anyway. He was going to surprise her with dinner and then she was going to help him with his homework before curling up on the couch to watch some SVU. When she was falling asleep on his lap, as she always did, he would take her up and give her his present. And yeah, ok, if it happened to result in a little sumthin sumthin for him, he wouldn't complain. But when it was all over, he would get to go to sleep in his bed, with his girl curled up into his body in that silky nightgown. Yeah, he _really_ fucked that up.

**_I really miss your hair in my face  
And the way your innocence tastes  
And I think you should know this  
You deserve much better than me_ **

He stumbled into school thinking that this was way worse than any hangover he'd ever had. Every step he took brought him closer to her. He expected to see her around every corner, and he was bracing himself for what would happen when he did. His head felt like it was about to explode, and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. He was pretty sure his palms were sweating more than Finn's when Mr. Schue had told him that dancing was, in fact, essential to singing the solo at their last competition. He didn't actually see her until he was in the hall headed to his locker. She truly was the great actress she promoted herself to be; at first glance you would never know she was heartbroken. Her clothes were just right, and her hair, well, her hair had always kind of been his downfall. It was long and silky, always cascading down her back and over her shoulders in these perfect waves. It made her look like a princess. All he wanted to do was run his fingers through it, or bury his face in it and smell its sweet, fruity scent. Mercedes approached her, and Rachel turned to talk to her friend, a smile dancing on her lips as Mercedes said something and gestured across the hall at Kurt, who was winking back at the girls. Was it possible that she wasn't heartbroken? That she wasn't feeling everything he was?

No, that wasn't possible, because just as she turned toward him and he ducked behind the nearest door, he saw that the smile was only on her lips. Her eyes showed none of the joy her mouth was portraying. For a minute he wondered at the fact that Kurt and Mercedes, her best friends, didn't seem to notice that her 'happy-Rachel' act was just that. But that didn't last, because deep down he knew that he was the only one who could really see past the many masks of Rachel Berry. Once Kurt and Mercedes had left, heading toward their own class on the other side of campus, he watched the mask fall. She turned back to her locker and just stared. She stared at those pictures of that Barbra chick she was so obsessed with and at that goofy miniature disco ball she had hung in her locker. Then, though he couldn't exactly see where her eyes were looking, he knew she stared at that picture of them, the one that Blaine had tried to take of just her, before he slipped quietly behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and drop his chin on her shoulder just as the shutter snapped. He didn't have to have the photo in front of him to see the surprised smile on her face or the way his eyes focused not on the camera but on her. She closed her locker, just after running the tip of her index finger over where he knew the picture hung. He was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed the way her lip trembled, probably because no one else in the crowded hall was paying any attention to her. All he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and kiss her until that trembling stopped. Not this time.

**_While looking through your old box of notes  
I found those pictures I took that you were lookin' for  
If there's one memory I don't wanna lose  
It's that time at the mall, you and me in the dressing room  
I told myself I won't miss you  
But I remember what it feels like beside you_ **

Puck wasn't really sure how he had made it through the day. It was as if he had been a zombie, and he barely remembered any of it. His only saving grace was that there was no glee rehearsal. That would have done him in. He groaned when he reached his bedroom. That room really needed to be cleaned up. No time like the present. And it wasn't as if he had anything better to do. He cursed himself when he realized that many of his personal belongings were now destroyed, thanks to his own self-destructive behavior the night before. Looks like he would be throwing some things out.

"Hey ma, squirt." He kissed the back of his mother's head and held out his hand for his little sister to high five him as he looped through the kitchen to grab a trash bag.

"Everything ok Noah?"

"Yeah ma. Just doing some cleaning."

"You mean without me or Rachel having to threaten you with bodily harm?" Puck flinched as if someone had slapped him when his mother uttered his now ex-girlfriend's name. "I'm proud of you." He grunted then ran to the stairs, taking them two at a time back to his room.

After filling the trash bag with all the things he had broken or torn and making his bed, he decided that he might as well actually clean his room while he was at it. It would save him from listening to his mom's crap later, and it might even earn him some brownie points. He tidied up all his Xbox games and controllers and moved on to picking up dirty clothes. (He wasn't like, disgusting or anything, it's not like he left dirty underwear lying around, it was mostly hoodies and stuff that weren't _dirty_ dirty.) Carrying an armful of clothes, Puck walked to the closet to drop them in the hamper. But he couldn't just drop them in, because the lid was closed and there was a box sitting on top of it. That damn box. He had looked through his "Rachel" box, the shoebox full of letters and pictures, before she came over the day before and he must have just left it there instead of putting it back on the shelf where it belonged. He wasn't a pussy. His girl was just really hot and he loved her, ok?

His head screamed at him that it was a horrible idea, but he couldn't stop his hand from lifting the lid off the box. He picked up the box and carried it with him to sit on the bed, his hand shuffling through the letters at the top of the box to get to the pictures underneath. There wasn't anything wrong with the letters, in fact he kind of liked them, especially the ones toward the end where she started getting a little dirty. But right now, he just needed to see her face, to be back in that day.

She had dragged him along with her to the mall to pick out an outfit for her Julliard interview. He hadn't realized that even buying an outfit for an interview was a production for Rachel Berry. She insisted he bring his mom's camera because, apparently, there was like, some law against buying an outfit in the store just because it looks good then. No, she had taken him to at least 10 different stores, where she tried on at least 10 different outfits each. While she pranced in and out of one fitting room after another, he sat just outside and took pictures of her in each outfit doing various poses. Most of them were her serious actress poses, but occasionally she threw in a silly or sexy one, just for him. Her reasoning was that because this was her audition outfit, she needed to make sure it looked good on camera as well in case they decided to take pictures that day. "Noah! The outfit that looks the best in the mirror might translate horribly to film!" He had rolled his eyes at her, but really, he loved being her personal fashion photographer. Besides, by about the seventh store, he convinced her to let him actually come in the fitting rooms with her. He swore it would save time, and it probably would have, if it hadn't been for all the time they lost doing … other things. A few days later when she asked for the memory card so she could look through the photos and decide on an outfit, he told her there must have been something wrong with the card or the camera because none of the pictures had saved. That was a lie, of course, the pictures all came out just fine. He just didn't want to share them. When he had gone home and looked through the pictures, all he saw was his Rachel and their moments. It wasn't fair for anyone else to get to be a part of that. So, he took the card to CVS and printed a few of his favorites before saving all the pictures on a thumb drive that was also hidden in the bottom of the box. He also went to the mall and bought her the outfit that looked the best in the pictures.

**_I really miss your hair in my face  
And the way your innocence tastes  
And I think you should know this  
You deserve much better than me_ **

If he closed his eyes just right, he could imagine she was still there. He could smell her, which wasn't really a surprise, since her scent was all over everything in his room. But more than that, he could almost taste her. He could taste her breath when he kissed her, he could even taste her skin. And when he fell back onto the bed he could imagine that the darkness around him was caused by her hair forming a curtain around his face. He was actually grateful when he heard his mom calling him downstairs for dinner. He had started to feel a lump forming in his throat, and he wasn't strong enough to pull himself out of his reverie alone. He jumped off the bed and put the box back in the closet, pushing it a little farther back on the shelf than usual.

**_The bed I'm laying in is getting colder  
Wish I never would've said it's over  
And I can't pretend  
I won't think about you when I'm older  
'Cause we never really had our closure  
This can't be the end_ **

Puck had been in bed for over an hour, tossing and turning, trying to find some position that would allow him to sleep. His bed just felt wrong, too big and too cold. It wasn't even as if Rachel slept there every night, not even once every week. But any other time, he could look forward to the next time that she would be sleeping there. Now, there was no next time. There would never be another time that he would share a bed with Rachel, this one or any other. And knowing that made it impossible for him to sleep. He always had a hard time sleeping after they'd had a fight, he always felt so horrible. But this time, every time he moved he expected to feel her there with him. Apparently his brain was punishing him by continuously reminding him of what he could no longer have.

He deserved to be punished. Breaking up with Rachel was the stupidest thing he'd ever done. He didn't even know why he'd done it; he certainly hadn't planned it. The words just … came out, before he could stop them. It was just, when he heard her say that shit about staying in Ohio, he lost it. She was not staying in Ohio. She couldn't, certainly not because of him. And that's when it hit him. She was so much better than him. He kind of already knew, but when she said she would stay in Ohio because his dumb ass couldn't make it into any school in New York, he really knew. (Ok, he wasn't dumb, not at all. He just hadn't tried hard enough the first few years, which made it even worse once he started trying because of Rachel and figured out just how not-dumb he was.) He wouldn't be the one to hold her back, he refused to do that. So, he let her go. Well, he pushed her away. But it was for her own good, and someday she would see that. Someday. Someday when she was this awesome, Tony-award winning actress and he was still a Lima Loser. And if she even remembered him then, she would thank him for dumping her in his living room. But he would always think of her, remember her as his first love, the first person who believed in him and loved him in spite of his many flaws and mistakes. And that small part of his brain that refused to accept what he had done whispered that maybe, when someday came, he wouldn't still be a Lima Loser. Maybe he would be good enough for her by then and he could go find her and prove it to her. Maybe, but not likely.

**_I really miss your hair in my face  
And the way your innocence tastes  
And I think you should know this  
You deserve much better than me_ **

Glee club was going to be the death of him. It had been three days since he managed to break both his and Rachel's hearts in one fell swoop, and he had pretty much managed to avoid her the entire time. But today was Thursday, and that meant glee. And glee meant having to be in a room with her, and look at her, and listen to her voice, and do all of that without losing his shit. He was pretty sure he couldn't do it. Then Schue had to go and drop that damn bombshell on them. They were ramping up for nationals in a few weeks, which Puck hoped would keep Rachel in the zone enough so that she would be distracted from him. But Schuester had to go and announce that he had picked their set list, and that one of the songs was a duet, between Rachel and Puck. Not Finn, Puck. He couldn't say anything. He had a million things he wanted to say, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate. He wanted to protest that it was bad for the team, that he didn't have enough experience to lead them at nationals. Sure, he had done some one-line solos in the middle of songs before, but nothing that major. Finn was much more suited to lead. And more than anything, he wanted to say that he just couldn't sing with her. He couldn't do it to himself and he definitely couldn't do it to her. Because if he had to sing with her, if they had to rehearse together and sing together on that stage, just the two of them, he'd pull some stupid Finn bullshit and try to get her back, and because she was the wonderful person she was, she would do it. And then he'd be right back to being the prick who was holding her back because he wasn't good enough for her.

Luckily, he didn't have to say anything, because Finn did it for him. Well, he didn't do it for him, he did it for Rachel, but whatever. "Umm, Mr. Schue, are you sure that's a good idea?" Finn spoke to their teacher, but he kept his eyes on Rachel. Most of the glee club, the ones that cared even a little about Rachel anyway, knew by now what had gone down between them. Well, they knew Puck had broken up with her, he was pretty sure she didn't give them the details, because Finn hadn't broken his nose yet (which he would have deserved) and Mercedes hadn't backed him into a corner to scream at him for like, an hour (also deserved). "I mean, I just don't know if that song is right for Puck. And he doesn't exactly have experience doing big solos in competitions. All I'm saying is, this is most of our last year, and we really want to win this thing, and I don't know if a Puck and Rachel duet is the way to do that. Sorry buddy," Finn shot him a quick apologetic glance, but it was completely unnecessary. Finn was doing him a favor. He didn't want to sing the duet with Rachel, and he certainly didn't want her to give up her part.

"Look Finnocence," Santana snapped, "just because you still have some _thing_ for Berry over there-,"

"I-I don't have a _thing_ …"

"Shut it. Just because you can't get off the Berry Express and you have to be the center of attention, doesn't mean you get all the male solos in here."

"Santana, Rachel and I are friends. That's it. And I wasn't talking about me. I don't need the duet. But what about Sam, he's got a good voice, and he's a much better dancer than me." Nearly everyone laughed. "Or Artie, his voice is really cool, and I bet he'd be really great on that song. I'm just saying, I don't think Puck is a good fit." Finn and Puck both noticed the unshed tears in Rachel's eyes. "You know, for the song, I mean."

"Excuse me Mr. Schuester, I need to go to the restroom. I-I'll be back," Rachel jumped from her seat quickly and almost ran from the room. Kurt nudged Mercedes, who followed her friend.

Puck dropped his head to stare at his feet. He really knew how to screw things up. He felt a hand on his shoulder as Sam leaned forward. "Sorry man. But you know, maybe it's for the best." He saw the compassion in Sam's eyes; he was just trying to be helpful. Santana, on the other hand, wasn't.

"Yeah. She deserves much better than you." At that, Puck stood and moved to leave the room. He didn't want to be there when Rachel returned.

"I know."

**_I really miss your hair in my face  
And the way your innocence tastes  
And I think you should know this  
You deserve much better than me_ **


End file.
